


coffee

by Moonberrycat



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, Pocket Monsters: X & Y | Pokemon X & Y Versions
Genre: All mistakes are mine, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, More fluff than angst, Mutual Pining, Not Beta Read, Other, Reader is in love, Reader-Insert, and trust me there'll be a lot of em, kind of, more pining on the readers side tho, nonbinary reader, reader has a low self esteem, so please be gentle, this is my first fic in years
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-15
Updated: 2020-02-15
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:34:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22728493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moonberrycat/pseuds/Moonberrycat
Summary: “because...” i feel myself beginning to choke up, so many emotions flood through me at the same time. there’s so much i could say...so much i need to say. “i want to make you happy.”everything about you is gentle right now. the expression on your face to the way you hold my hand. even your words are gentle when you speaks. “you already do.”
Relationships: Handsome | Looker/Reader
Kudos: 4





	coffee

**Author's Note:**

> hi. hello. welcome
> 
> if you missed the tags, this is a reader x canon insert. please don't leave a mean comment if you don't like this kind of thing. or in general. mean comments suck.
> 
> sorry if this is dumb but i love (1) hard-boiled detective and i must express it somehow.

_don’t stay awake for too long don’t stay awake for too long_

you always stay up late writing papers for your work. being a detective is hard work, but sometimes i wonder if loving one is even harder. you fell asleep at your desk again. your coat is draped over your chair and your head is cocooned in your arms. you twitch a little in your sleep as you dream and i wonder if you’re dreaming about me the way that i dream about you. i approach your desk and place a hand on your shoulder. you are warm, even when asleep. i gently shake your shoulder and hold back the urge to call you ‘sweetheart’. you jerk awake, and i pull my hand off your shoulder even though i wish to still touch you. you lift your head up and look over at me.

“it’s late,” i whisper before you can speak. you look down at your paperwork and then back at me.

“i need to finish this.” you whisper back, already starting to pick your pen up and get back to work. i silently sigh. i understand that your work is important but i can’t help but wonder when you are going to realize that your well-being is important too. important to me.

“Looker--” i start to speak. i try not to sound less frustrated and more concerned. you turn your head to face me, your eyebrow is raised defiantly, but it falls when your gaze fully meets mine. “please, go to bed.” there’s so much more i want to say. maybe you can see it in my gaze. maybe you can see _i love you_ in my eyes. maybe i want to see it in yours more. 

you hesitate, keeping your beautiful grey eyes on my face as you think. you look so conflicted and i wish i knew why. what secrets do you hide behind your eyes, my love? do you think you could ever trust me with them?

“fine.” you eventually speak, looking so very tired. i fear that it’s me that is exhausting you, but then you smile. a warm, genuine smile that outshines even your deepest exhaustion. “thank you. for being here.”

i smile back. those words mean more to me than you will ever know. an ‘i love you’ rises up in my throat, but i swallow it back down. i wonder if you do, too.

_don’t go to bed_

i miss you, when you finally go to sleep. after Emma is tucked into bed. when the lights are off and the house is quiet. i hang your coat on the coat rack out front every night before i leave. i wonder, do you know it’s me? do you even notice? i lock the door as i leave, always double checking to make sure it’s truly locked. i know that you worry, but i worry too. i will never let anyone hurt you again.

it’s dark out and the streets are almost completely empty by the time i walk home. not even the sounds of street peddlers can be heard at these hours. i am careful, nonetheless, and i’m home in only a few minutes walk. i still miss you as i walk up my steps and hang my coat up. i think about you while i shower and change into my pajamas. you’re on my mind as i brush my teeth and climb into bed. 

i think of you...all the time. and i wonder, do you think of me the same way i think about you? am i the last thought on your mind before you fall asleep? you are mine. some nights i can’t even sleep. i stay awake wondering what your kiss tastes like, what your arms around me would feel like, how ‘i love you’ would sound coming from your lips. 

maybe someday i’ll know. thinking that helps me sleep a little easier.

_i’ll make a cup of coffee for your head_   
_i’ll get you going out of bed_

i return early the next day. i start a pot of coffee and organize the papers that are left out. breakfast is, of course, the most important meal of the day so i put effort into making delicious and nutritious ones. i’m not much of a cook in all honesty, but i’m willing to learn for you. i don’t know when you wake up, but you always come padding down the hallway into the kitchen as i’m cooking, fully dressed and clean shaven and smelling of your signature cologne. i look over my shoulder at just the right moment to catch you smiling at me. i look away to hide the pink that begins to warm my cheeks. i smile too.

“what’s cookin’, good lookin’?” you tease, and my blush deepens. it takes a moment for me to regain a more calm composure. it startles me how easy it is for you to make me blush, even if you aren’t trying.

“some eggs.” i reply, grinning over my shoulder. “i added some vegetables for flavor and some tamato berry juice for a little kick.”

i take the eggs off the heat and move them onto a plate before offering you a serving. you hungrily accept. i imagine busy detectives live life more on take-out and to-go coffee than home cooked meals. i must admit, it’s a little flattering to know that you enjoy the food i cook even if i am a beginner. 

i watch you take a bite and contemplate the flavors. you beam at me, announcing it as good. i smile back, fond of your excitement and simple joy. fond of you in general.

i’m about to go wake Emma up when she comes into the room, still in pajamas and looking half asleep. the contrast between the two of you is endearing. 

“coffee?” i offer, already knowing what her response will be. it’s practically an inside joke at this point.  
she playfully cringes, sticking her tongue out while trying to hide a smile. you start to laugh, and the two of us are not far behind. mornings are nice here. peaceful. i’m glad i met you.

_and i promise that one day i’ll feel fine_   
_and i promise that one day i’ll feel alright_

we clean up and get started on our day. some days it’s quiet. we mill around the office space and work on paperwork, occasionally helping people who come to your door. other days we race around the city, chasing crime doers and bringing peace back to the city. 

it’s quiet today. you’re in your office, sitting side-by-side with Emma helping her learn how to read. i peak my head into the room to check up on you two. she reads a sentence aloud and then looks to you for approval. you smile brightly and nod, encouraging her to continue, and i smile as well. 

i continue to watch. you gently correct her mistakes, never once getting frustrated. you’re a wonderful teacher; scratch that, you’re a wonderful father (whether or not you know that doesn’t make it any less true). you’re so patient and kind towards her. i doubt she could have a better father figure in her life.

i’m glad she has you because, gosh golly, i don’t know how to do this parental thing. to be fair, i was never exactly shown the right way as a child either, but...i still feel like i should know to some degree. you naturally fell into the roll. scooping her into your arms and soothing her tears after nightmares, while i sat there awkwardly trying to find something comforting to say. 

i’m probably disappointing you, in all honesty. you end up having to pick up the pieces everytime i try and help. i feel like a small child when i say this, but I just want to make you proud. and i want her to look up to me too, as a competent adult, as someone she can trust, as someone like you. 

i _promise_ i’ll get better. i’ll try harder. i’ll do better. i’ll _be_ better, for both of you.

**Author's Note:**

> oh, and if you got this far, my tumblr is princexfae.tumblr.com. feel free to hmu!


End file.
